south
sand like snakes
runs to the end of the world
long braided rivers of grit
fly a hair’s breadth above the packed shore
desperate to hurl every grain
into the insistent southern ocean
the greenstone sea claws at each stream
turns it under pulls it out deep
toward the aching cold white
where ice and pole call
in a shrill whine
that won’t be denied
thirsty for wave: Agnes Water
my toes, thirsty for wave
delight in the surf
wet sand sloughs dead cells
and salt air bathes
my pipes from sinus to lung
moonlight skips a warm glow across the crests
shifting from one end of the bay to the other
as I search the shore for turtle nests
here the ocean is as safe
as a wild thing gets
we are on agreeable terms
and my fingers loosen
dropping one heavy worry at a time
into the tide
then I edge away
knowing it’s a kindness
not to turn my back
seascape
sometimes I want a bit of wind and wave
the rhythm of that white curl of crest
smell of battered wrack
the sting of salt and sand
air you feel and taste
pushing your limbs and locks
til you know you’re still embodied
your hair going matted by mist
just looking at the restless grey out there
tonight it’s come with purple puffs of cloud
twining beach pea in the small hump of dune
a skiff with orange sail racing the dark
and a beach I can’t find an end for
this is highly enjoyable
I whisper to myself
(a bit of an understatement)
& thank all the elements for
assembling themselves just so
yet again
safari after dark
in the filtered morning sun
we take tea in the fig forest canopy
under the armed guide’s watchful eye
and rifle barrel
in the evening
after the last dish is rinsed
and the moon, Milky Way, constellations admired
it’s time to give way to the wild
retreat to our tents
and hide
it’s a long night
with what will be a full bladder
and the next tap running nonstop
the monkeys have turned it on
and it’s too close to the trees = leopards
and the hyena that won’t stop its maudlin haunting yip
for me to think about conserving anything
beyond my own skin
we’re interlopers here
I see clearly
when the dark sets in
and the bush rustles
